


Super-Genius

by infraredphaeton



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-27
Updated: 2014-01-27
Packaged: 2018-01-10 05:38:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 397
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1155751
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/infraredphaeton/pseuds/infraredphaeton
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tony has always been very good at maths. Steve doesn't fit into the equation properly.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Super-Genius

Tony’s a genius. He’s not overstating it. He is

Tony’s a genius.

He’s not overstating it. He is, technically, a genius.

And not just any genius, he’s, like, a super-genius.

He likes that term. He thinks he’ll ask Pepper to refer to him as ‘super-genius Tony Stark’ instead of ‘Tony you idiot’ from now on.

He makes a note.

"Sir, systems are in the red."

"I know, JARVIS."

"Sir, there is a less than 0.003% chance that you will be recovered before the armour is damaged and you drown."

"I know, JARVIS. They don’t call me a super-genius for nothing," Tony murmurs, blinking to try and focus on something beyond the blur of blue HUD and green water.

"They don’t call you a super-genius at all, sir."

"That’s because I haven’t sent the memo yet, JARVIS. Keep up."

It’s getting darker. Less sunlight filtering through the water, which means it’s deeper.

It means his chances of recovery are lowering.

"Ask Pepper to use it in my obituary, would you?"

"Of course, sir."

"Good," Tony slurs, "and have them play Sexy Back at my funeral."

"I’ll make a note of it, sir."

"G-good."

He can’t see anything, now.

Too dark. Too deep.

He isn’t sure when he falls unconscious.

—-

"Ow," Tony croaks.

He hasn’t felt this bad since he woke up in an Afghani cave with a car battery wired to his chest.

He hopes he isn’t waking up in an Afghani cave with a car battery wired to his chest.

That would be dull and repetitive, after all.

"Don’t push it, Mr Stark."

Tony blinks.

"Steve. You rescued me from 99.99989% certain death. I think you can call me Tony."

"Well, damn. I don’t think that it was quite that certain. Tony." Steve shrugs, slightly flushed, and offers Tony one of his disgustingly wholesome smiles.

"I did the math," Tony says, "And I’m a super-genius. You can trust my math."

"Well, I never was that great at math," Steve says, picking up a glass of ice-chips and offering a spoonful.

"What odds did you figure?"

"100% that I would get you back," Steve smiles.

"That’s just ridiculous," Tony says, accepting the ice. It melts pleasantly on his salt-sore throat.

"That’s just a fact," Steve shakes his head, "I don’t leave people behind."

Tony swallows the ice-melt.

"I like those odds much better than 0.003%."

 


End file.
